


You Try Until You Can't

by AliceTabitha



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant, He needs lots of hugs, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Neil being loved, Panic Attacks, Post-Canon, Reference to Child Abuse, but also having a hard time, reference to violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-18
Updated: 2018-11-18
Packaged: 2019-08-25 15:19:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,129
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16663285
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AliceTabitha/pseuds/AliceTabitha
Summary: Neil knew before he opened his eyes that this wasn’t going to be a good day.Neil Josten has survived everything thrown at him, and he has countless scars to prove it. After all that, it's not unusual for his days to turn sour, but at least he's got Andrew and his team to help pull him back together in the end. With extra support and advice from Wymack, maybe things might somehow end up alright. For today, he just needs to keep surviving.





	You Try Until You Can't

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! This is my first go at an All For The Game fic, I hope it's up to scratch. I love these characters so much, so of course that means I have to torture them a little.  
> Come find me over at queen-abraxos on tumblr!

Neil knew before he opened his eyes that this wasn’t going to be a good day. Nothing had happened that was particularly upsetting, there had been no nightmares while he slept and no harsh words from teammates or press. Days like this were just something that happened sometimes.

As he lay in his bunk, eyes open, he ran through the checks he used to do when he was with his mother: he pictured the room, its exits and hidden spaces; he felt his own breaths, short and jagged but not painful, no sign of injury. It was still dark, so he knew it wasn’t time to get up yet -  _ for practice,  _ he remembered. Not that he’d forgotten, more that it had been buried underneath years of cataloguing escape routes and safety checks, not immediately important to his survival. He probably had hours yet until he had to be up for it, but he knew there was no sleeping now. His mind and body both felt heavy with exhaustion, the bone deep kind that couldn’t be fixed with sleep.

Slowly, he brought his hands up and traced the scars on his face. The burns were long healed, but as his fingers brushed them he felt heat flood his face. Suddenly, he was on fire again, hands bound and bleeding. The dashboard lighter was just under his eye, his skin sticking and matting in the coils as it branded him again and again and again -  _ Trapped. Coward. Wesninski.  _

He couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move, as all his old wounds came back in full force. Riko forced his mouth open to spit into while Lola laughed. He couldn’t understand how he was still conscious as everything happened all at once. Browning appeared next to Lola and smiled. He told him the Foxes were gone, had left as soon as they found out who he was. Nathaniel was no longer welcome.

Dimly, he heard someone saying his name.  _ My name,  _ he thought through the riptide of blood pounding through his skull.  _ Not Nathaniel. My name. _ Then there were strong fingers on the back of his neck, forcing his head to the side and pushing his hand away. He couldn’t breathe -  _ couldn’t breathe - _ even as he was moved around, but suddenly that didn’t seem too important anymore. What good was breathing when this was what he was living? The thought went against everything he had ever been taught, and yet it seemed strangely right as he felt the hot iron smack and hiss against his arm. He was being buried under memories and twisted truths as he fought to keep his head above water.

The fingers on his neck were cold and unyielding, clamped hard into his skin and disrupting his thoughts. Then words filtered in, just as strong as the grip on his neck.

“You name is Neil Josten, starting striker in the Foxhole Court,” they were saying, over and over again. They were words he had heard many times by now, forcing their way through the mud and piercing the images his mind was throwing at him until they were shredded and he could finally see around them. “I am the man who put the key into your hand and told you it was home.”

Andrew knelt above him, unwavering as he repeated the sentences. Neil’s breath hitched and stuck in his throat before, finally, he could release it. His vision was fuzzy and blurred, and he couldn’t be sure that his father was not still standing in the corner, but he managed to force his lungs to work. Andrew was saying the words again, pulling Neil back into the room and forcing his father and all the others out. 

Nathaniel Wesninski had not cried since he was seven and his father had beat him so hard for making too much noise during his work that he had cut off that part of himself who wept. But Neil Josten could not tell if it was tears or sweat sliding down his face, or a remnant of the blood in his imagination. He didn’t have the energy to care. His breathing began to slow down, eventually settling to a normal rhythm, all under the watchful eye of Andrew as he drew back his hand. Neil forced himself to sit up, dimly noting Kevin still sleeping across the room before dismissing it as unimportant. He didn’t have the capacity right now to focus on anything other than himself and Andrew beside him. 

Andrew followed him to the edge of the bed, close enough that Neil knew he was there for him, but not enough to touch. The room had become something hot and sticky, and Neil didn’t want to be there anymore as he stood on shaky legs and made for the door. 

“Yes or no?” Andrew asked once they were outside the room. Neil couldn’t bring himself to speak yet, so for once Andrew accepted his nonverbal nod and brought his fingers to Neil’s face. Where Neil’s own touch had burnt, Andrews light press on his scars grounded him. It reminded him he was here, he was a Fox and his family would never give up on him. A year ago, an attack like that would have sent him running, and even he couldn’t say if he’d have stopped or not, but now he allowed Andrew to tug him to the beanbags in the living room.

Andrew was gone for a second before returning with a tub of ice cream, which he shoved unceremoniously into Neil’s hands. Neil wasn’t usually one for sweets, and eating ice cream at whatever ungodly hour it was didn’t feel particularly appealing, but the sharp cold of it in his grip helped to pin him to the present. Andrew didn’t ask if Neil wanted to talk about it, knowing perhaps that if Neil did, he would. Neil watched as Andrew turned the TV on and flicked to Wymack’s sports channel, volume on low. 

“Staring,” Andrew said, but there was no heat behind the words. Neil’s lips half twitched in a smile before he averted his gaze to the light of the TV. His head was still buzzing, but it was clear enough to keep him calm.

He must have drifted off again because when he next opened his eyes the sky had lightened to a pale blue outside. A glance to his left saw Andrew curled up in the bean bag beside him, eyes closed and breathing deeply. The exhaustion hadn’t left Neil, but it was better than it had been before as he pushed aside the blanket covering him that he didn’t remember getting. The ice cream had vanished, either returned to the fridge or consumed by Andrew, but the memory of its coldness and Andrew’s steady touch ensured Neil was kept from teetering over the edge. 

He padded into the kitchen and began the process of making coffee. When he turned around, two mugs in hand, Andrew was stretching out from his bean bag, a scowl on his face likely from the uncomfortable sleep. Neil was almost tempted to apologise, but stopped himself before he could - Andrew would only turn that scowl on him. Instead, he offered him the coffee and leant against the counter. 

It wasn’t long before Kevin was awake, sullen and silent as he always was in the morning, but diligently readying himself for practice. Neil wasn’t whole yet, but he was centred enough to push his night aside and prepare for the morning on the Court. 

***

The drive to the Foxhole Court was silent. Aaron, Nicky and Kevin had no doubt picked up on the hard stares from Andrew and had kept to themselves as they made their way out of the dorms. Even Nicky refrained comment during the drive, which Neil appreciated as much as his tired mind would let him. 

Moving took a monumental effort. It had never been much of a problem for Neil before - usually it was the opposite and he would try with all his might to outrun whatever thoughts were hounding him. But today it was as though the strings holding him up had all snapped. He took care placing himself beside Andrew when he got out of the car, forever aware of the space between them but knowing that Andrew was strong enough to hold him up if Neil were to need it.

He kept himself steady through sheer force of will alone, and when he changed in the bathroom he averted his gaze from the mirror. He knew today it would not be Neil Josten looking back. 

Practice felt like running underwater. He tried his best to lead the team and perform, but he let most of the responsibility fall on Dan. Kevin only snapped at him once, receiving a cutting glare from Andrew afterwards which deterred him from speaking out for the rest of their time on the Court. Bodies slammed together and sticks found targets for the hour or so they were playing, but Neil hardly felt it through the thick fog surrounding him. Matt pulled him aside at the start of their next scrimmage.

“I’m fine,” Neil said, sharper than he intended. Matt merely held his hands up and stepped back.

“Just know that I’m here if you need me, okay?” he said. It made Neil’s chest ache, but he pushed it aside. Now was not the time for a heart to heart. He could freak out again later. Burying everything under thick walls was second nature at this point as Neil nodded and stepped back into the game. 

The water break was both a welcome relief for Neil’s hollow muscles and a curse. Despite everything, practice gave him purpose, and pausing only brought back the wash of nothingness he had been trying to avoid. He looked up at Andrew from his seat on the bench and tried to take comfort in his presence. Neil was being ridiculous - he knew he was. There was no need to still fear his father when the man was dead and buried. ( _ Two shots thunk-thunking into his body. _ ) But logic didn’t play a part in days like this. HIs empty stare fixed on the locker that had burst with blood all those months ago. That was before anyone in this room besides Kevin even knew who he was. He could almost feel the slick coating of it sliding down his skin, staining his clothes all over again. He wore secrets like warriors wore armour, but his shields had betrayed him in the end. The armour had burned, trapping him inside. 

His reverie was broken by Wymack’s gruff voice as he entered the room. He gave the team a short review of the practice so far, instructing them on drills he wanted to employ when they started up again. It was instinctive to absorb the information, so Neil let it all rest on the surface of his mind, focusing on exy and nothing but exy until it buried the other thoughts trying to swarm him. 

Wymack dismissed the team, but paused to call Neil and Dan back. “It’s getting a bit rough out there with some of the freshmen. You two need to bring them in line before it goes too far.” He frowned at them both, and while Neil knew he wasn’t truly angry his mind started blaring warnings to move away.

Dan folded her arms and said something back that Neil barely heard. It was so hard today, and he hated it. He clenched his jaw enough to hear it creak, balling his hands in his pockets as he forced his feet to remain where they were. 

“Neil?” Wymack asked loudly, and brought his fingers up to click under his nose. Neil didn’t even think before he was stumbling back, eyes wide and fearful. The buzzing in his ears was deafening. His back hit the wall. Dan was saying something, but he couldn’t hear it past the roaring in his head. Then she was gone, and Wymack was there, arms up and palms facing out as though calming a wild animal. Part of Neil felt guilty for acting this way in front of his coach, but it was such a miniscule part that it was drowned out by the rest of him screaming to  _ run _ . 

Breathing became hard for the second time that day. All he could see was his father and the poker. His old scars crackled under his skin, each one a reminder of the cruelty a man like that could bring. 

But then the fingers were back on the nape of his neck, and the sounds filling him were no longer screams or threats but the same words Andrew had spoken over and over again that morning and countless times before. They were grounding words that sucked him back into himself before he could fully tumblr off that edge. As soon as his breathing returned to a normal enough rhythm Andrew’s gaze turned to Wymack.

The coach’s hands were back at his sides now, but the look on his face was one Neil had only rarely glimpsed - there was no pity, just that old exhaustion that Neil felt echoing through his own bones. 

“What did I say about touching, Coach?” Andrew said. His words came out flat and cold, but Neil could hear the emotion behind them. He tried to say something - to tell Andrew to step down - but his throat felt raw and broken. 

“It’s fine,” Neil eventually rasped. Both Andrew and Wymack glared at him in response, but Neil shook his head. “He didn’t do anything wrong, Andrew. It wasn’t his fault.” Andrew’s fingers were still gripping Neil’s neck, and they tightened at his words, but he seemed to stand down.

There was a pause in the room before Wymack let out a sigh. “It will get easier,” he said quietly, all his attention on Neil. His words were a small comfort. He hadn’t said that it would ever truly stop and Neil appreciated the honesty from a man who knew just how difficult it was to endure what they had endured. “I know I’m a grumpy old shit and I pretend that it’s not my job, but if you ever want to talk to me, don’t hesitate.” It was the same sentiment Matt had given earlier during practice, and again it made Neil’s chest throb. 

“Yes, Coach.”

“I’m serious, Neil. If not me, then Abby or Betsy. It will help, even if you don’t believe me. Use us like you’re supposed to.” Wymack rubbed at his eyes wearily. 

“Yes, Coach.”

“Stop it,” Andrew said, digging his fingers in again. For a moment, Neil thought he was talking to Wymack, but when he looked up Andrew’s gaze was fixed solely on him. 

“Stop what?” Neil asked. 

“Being an idiot,” Andrew said. He pulled his hand away, but shifted his body closer to Neil’s. It only fully registered then that they were on the floor, backs to the wall. Wymack was still standing, but he no longer seemed threatening. Again, Neil was hit with a wave of embarrassment and guilt at his earlier reaction, but this time much stronger now the panic had subsided. Wymack had explained to him that night long ago that he would never raise a finger to Neil, nor would he ever strike without being hit first. But Neil’s brain had not been wired to believe promises like that. He’d thought that perhaps by now he would have accepted Wymack’s words, yet here he was half a room away from the man, cowering on the floor. 

Wymack flexed his fingers, eyes on his own hands. “I know what it’s like to let your scars control you, Neil. One day you have to choose to make it stop. I’ll be here whenever that might be,” he said, before shaking out his arms and moving away. “Will I see you on the Court?”

“No,” Andrew answered before Neil could reply. Neil sent him a searching look, but Andrew ignored him. 

“Make sure you’re here on time tomorrow,” Wymack grumbled, the gruff edge returning to his voice. Everyone in the room knew that if Neil couldn’t make it tomorrow, or the next day, or the day after that, Wymack wouldn’t care, but his tone carefully locked their conversation away and allowed some normalcy to drift back into Neil. The door closed softly on Wymack’s way out.

“I want it to stop, Andrew,” Neil admitted into the quiet room. Andrew didn’t say anything in response, but stood up and made to leave. He waited at the door for Neil to follow, then led him out of the stadium and back into the Maserati. Neither of them cared that they were dirty and covered in sweat from practice as the car peeled out of the lot. The drive back to the tower was accompanied by low music this time, giving Neil something else to focus on past the thoughts in his head. 

When they arrived back at the tower, Neil silently followed Andrew up the stairs until they hit the roof. A cigarette was being pushed into his hand before the door even closed behind them. He brought it up to his face and gulped down the smoke, trying to find comfort in its tendrils. 

Neil was no longer on the verge of losing himself, but the heaviness remained, as he knew it would for the rest of the day. The smoke brought up images of the beach in his mind, the burning car and the bones left behind. A weight formed behind his eyes which he tried to suppress, focusing instead on putting himself between Andrew’s legs, back to his chest as Andrew allowed Neil to lean on him. 

“Yes or no?” Andrew asked, the first words either of them had spoken since the stadium.

“Yes,” Neil replied. Andrew’s fingers fell into Neil’s hair, gentle and coaxing. He threaded them through the tangles, loosely working them until he could slide his hand along without restraint. Neil felt his chest hitch as his eyes closed. 

The pressure built too much, and like a dam bursting after a storm, tears slipped from under his eyelids. Andrew made no sign that he saw them, fingers continuing their slow work. Nathaniel Wesninski had stopped crying at seven, but Neil Josten now let the tears fall freely. He was not okay today, but with Andrew beside him and the rest of his team at his back maybe he could be, tomorrow or someday after that. 

It was a hopeful thought, and one that squeezed at his chest, but not in a painful way. He was living the life he had carved out for himself and he refused to let it go. Here, he was finally safe.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed it! Leaving Kudos or a comment would literally make my whole day forever <3  
> Thank you so much for reading!


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